Tie Me Up Like In the Magazines Ch. 03

As soon as I heard my mothers car leave for work in the morning, I go into my bedroom, and pull out my magazines from Mr. Smith. There are 4 of them now. 4 dirty magazines witch means, 4 times in the past few weeks that I gave Mr. Smith a show. 4 times i texted a gay man in his 50s, asking politely if I could amuse him by masturbating in front of him. 4 times I bared my penis and tender bottom, for his entertainment. 4 times I licked up my own slimy cum, for the pleasure he took in my humiliation.

I laid out the magazines on my bed, open to my recent favorites, and strip. After my first show for Mr. Smith I always jerk off standing up, and completely nude. I like to pretend Im the helpless victims in the photos and comics. I cross my wrists behind my back, kneel, and bend over like the boys in the pictures.

One of the magazines shows young men tied up in girls clothes and underwear. Bound boys, wearing fishnets, pleated skirts, lacy panties, and high wasted thongs. One spread showed a party where boys in french maid outfits and chains, served nasty old men. Another showed a terrified boy in a cheerleader outfit, roped up and struggling in a trash filled ally.

I fantasized about wearing girls undies under my jeans. Being in class, or talking to my mother, all along knowing what I had on underneath. I imagined myself in a French maids outfit. Bending over to pour Mr. Smith a beer, having him pinch the cheeks, exposed by my tiny skirt and lacy thong. I imagined Mr. Smith coming home to find me bound and gagged dressed in high socks and schoolgirl's pleated skirt. As I struggled, my skirt would ride up, and he'd be able to see my round booty and thick cock, straining my frilly little panties.

When I cum standing in front of my dirty magazines, I catch the semen in my cupped palms and lap it up. It's humiliating and gross, but it usually makes my chubby young cock stiffen again right after an orgasm. Slurping up my cum, I wonder how it would feel to eat another guy's jizz. What it would feel like to be bound, and forced to suck a man's big dirty penis. To have him cram it down my throat till I gagged, and my eye's watered. How I'd struggle against bound wrists, wile he choked me with his big cock.

These fantasies drove me wild. I wanted to be bound and gagged sooooo bad. Finally, I decided to ask Mr. Smith to tie me up. I really wanted him to say yes, and not be bothered by my request. So I decided I'd present my self to him like a gift. I'd get everything ready for him, then present my self with all the ropes and tape and...my horny mind trailed off.

That morning I texted Mr. Smith, telling him I'd like to show him something, when he got home from work. Next I caught a cross town buss, to the nearest Target for my supplies.

The ropes, tape, and zip ties I wanted were easy collect, but shopping for girls clothes was another matter. I could never admit they were for me, so I brought a bogus list, witch I fake checked as I shopped. This was just on the off chance I ran into someone I knew or was questioned. I could say I was shopping for whatever was on the list for, for a made up sister.

After skulking around for far too long in the girls section, I had to look up comparison sizes on my phone, as I wanted the panties to fit tight. As I approached the register with my cart, I trembled at its contents; a 3 pack of frilly bikini style panties, tall pink socks, low black heels, a plain white spaghetti strap top, and a short pleated schoolgirl skirt.

Behind. The register was a thick black lady, in her late 40s, heavily mad up. Her red Target shirt bulged out over her huge sagging tits, and her wide hips and big ass strained the fabric of her yoga pants. I couldn't help but notice the tag reading Kana on one massive utter.

As she began to scan my items, a little wicked smile crossed her face. And as she bagged first the heels, then the tall socks, skirt, and spaghetti strap top, she looked me over with hungry eyes. Did she somehow know the girly clothes were for me?

"Now who are all these pretty clothes for hun? Not you?"

Her question cut straight to the hart of my fear and I froze. Somehow I knew, she had guessed the things were for me. The curvy black women saw right through me, and knew I was a little perv, who couldn't wait to be tied up in those girly clothes. I choked, I stuttered, my penis half stiffening in my tight jeans. Wanting to run, I finally mumbled something lamely about my list, and made up sister.

"Sister, right. Im sure, your sister. Your very nice to shop for her, aren't you?"

Laughing, pretending it was a joke she went on, holding the bikini panties high for an obscenely long moment, before bagging them. She went on.

"Well Im sure you would never wear these cute things. But Im also sure, who ever these are for, that person will look very great in them."

She said this last with a wink, running her eyes over my slim body slowly, checking be out again from top to bottom. Then as her grin widened to an absolute leer as she came to the ropes, tape, and zip ties.

"What have we here?"

I terrified my hear racing, I stammered something about repairs, and needing to tie some things up around the house.

"All this rope and tape, something must really need to be tied up around your house? Isn't that right hun. Something at your house really need to be tied up... bound?"

The word "bound" hung in the air between us. She knew everything, I was like and open book. All I could do was stand there and try not to stare at her huge saggy tits.

I hovered there shocked, my penis twitching, a bulge appearing in the front of my jeans. This thick lady could tell from my groceries and my shady behavior, that I was some sort of submissive bondage perv. Finally, holding up my last item, the zip ties, she looked me right in the eyes.

"Now you'll be careful with these won't you hun? It's easy for a cute young man to get tangled up and trapped with these. I have a son about your age, and one time I he got himself tangled up in some tip ties. That boy was a trail, always getting in trouble and spanked for going through my underwear drawer."

Kayana let the line wait, looking me up and down, couching her creepy monologue in cheerful professional sounding banter.

"It's funny, when my boy evidently tied himself up that time, somehow his pants had fallen down too. Imagine that, I open my garage, to find my 18 year old football player son, zip tied to a post, in nothing but his under panties. He was lucky his mommy was there to help him."

Her teasing hint wasn't subtle at all, and I was terrified the other customers would notice. Taking my money, she held back my bag, writing on my recite.

"I wrote my number on this recite here. My names Kana, and if you ever. Need help with these ties, you just give mama a call, ok boy."

Putting the recite in the bag, she finally handed me my items. All I could do was mumble a humiliated thank you, and try to hold the grocery bag over my boner as I rushed out of the store.

On the bus ride home, I couldn't stop thinking about Kayana. That big older lady had seen what kind of boy I was, and instead of being shocked, she was turned on. She wanted to see me humiliated, roped up, in girls clothes.

I had to put the grocery bag on my lap to cover my stiffing cock, as I imagined what might happen if I called her. I visualized myself in her shabby apartment, stripping and jerking off for her, wile she sipped a cocktail. I saw myself on my knees in a thong, massaging her feet and licking her clit, as she watched TV and unwound from work. I wanted her to tie me up, and suffocate me with her, fat, hairy, black vagina. I tried to calm down, but all too soon we pulled up to my stop. Again I had to clutch the plastic Target bag over my throbbing hard on.

Before I knew it, I was again in Mr. Smith's back yard, about to do something very naughty. Mr. Smith was plopped down in his accustomed chair, sipping a beer. As I approached with my shopping bag, my legs felt like rubber. And when I finally stood in front of the old man, I felt my knees shaking.

My young cock was stiff, making a noticeable bulge in my tight jeans. There was a frog in my throat, and I stuttered. I couldn't speak, and Mr. Smith just watched me and grinned. Finally, he broke the awkward silence, asking what was in the bag.

Mutely, like a boy in a dream, I stepped forward and handed Mr. Smith the grocery back. As I stepped back, I was extremely aware of my erection rubbing against my briefs. I was so horny, excited and scared, it was all I could do to stay still, with my hands at my sides.

Mr. Smith took a long look in the bag, then took out each item one by one, placing them on a small table, at his side. First he took out the girly top, and socks.

"What are these now? Very cute. So these are for you?"

I couldn't move I was paralyzed with fear, and shame. I wanted to ask to be tied up, but I was too shy. He went on, now taking out the pleated skirt, and panties. Holding up the undies, Mr. Smith stared until I met his eyes, and nodded.

"And these cute panties, and the skirt. Like a little school girl?"

I still couldn't speak. My eyes widened as he brought out the tape, zip ties, and rope. What had I gotten myself into?

"What are these for, little boy? Is there something you'd like to ask me?"

I was shaking with fear and excitement. Questions raced through my mind. Would he say no, and laugh at me? Would he say yes? And if Mr. Smith did want to tie me up, what would he do when I was helpless? Could I trust this old creep?

Finally, I blurted out.

"I think about being tied up all the time Sir. I can't get it out of my head. Will you tie me up Mr. Smith, please Sir. Tie me up like your magazines. I'll put on the girly clothes, and you can keep me tied all afternoon, till my mommy gets home at 8pm."

He just looked at me, grinning his eyes wandering up a down my young body. The silence drew out till I couldn't take it anymore. I started to strip as I spoke, first kicking off my shoes. Seeing me undressing Mr. Smith took out his camera phone and began to film me. I guessed he was going to have my dirty confession on video, but at this point all I could do was go on,

"Please Mr. Smith. Tie me up like your magazines. I'll be your little kidnapped school girl, bound and humiliated."

The old creep kept grinning, letting me dangle. Slowly I pulled off my t-shirt.

"What's in it for me? You get your bondage fantasy, what do I get?"

I knew what he wanted to hear, I was so ashamed, but my hornyness drew me on. I loosened my jeans and let them fall. I tried to look Mr. Smith in the eyes as I spoke, but I kept looking down in shame.

"What's in it for you? Well Mr. Smith, if Im all helpless, and tied up..."

I trailed off, my cheeks burning, eyes full of shame full tears.

"Go on boy, finish your sentence."

My legs were shaking, and I was numb with shame, but my cock felt like a metal bar. I felt so naughty and wrong, but I couldn't help myself. I had to go on. With a sign of defeat I dropped my undies, my young penis popping out straight and hard. A big glob of premium standing out from its tightly stretched tip. The afternoon sun brought out goose bumps on my exposed flesh.

Nude I stepped out of my clothes towards the old man. From the table beside him I took the girls clothes. I moved directly in front of Mr. Smith, and quickly dressed in the spaghetti strap top, sock, panties, and skirt. I stood awkwardly in the short heels, and my hands shook as I straightened my hem, and pulled up my tall socks.

I had never worn girls clothing before in my life, not even as a joke. I was terrified of how sexy it made me feel. The dirtiest part of me had been tempted to buy a thong, but I had far too scared at Target. Now as I pulled up the lacy violet bikini style panties, I knew they were even naughtier than a g-string would have been. I had undressed and jerked off, in front of this old creep before, but now I felt much grater shame getting dressed, but as a girl!

Still filming with his phone, Mr. Smith let out a low whistle. Flattered I giggled, and on an impulse gave a quick twirl. Mr. Smith hooted even louder.

Then as the anticipation grew, I reached for a zip tie. I almost stumbled, not at all used to my cute new foot wear. My coltish legs flashing under my short pleated skirt. I surprised both of us with another girly giggle as I regained my equilibrium.

Standing in front of Mr. Smith I made a loop with a long zip tie. I held it up between us, smiling through the loop at him and his camera. Then putting my hands behind my back, I put the tie around my wrists and began to slowly tighten it. My heart was pounding like a jack hammer in my chest, and my words came out cracked but eager.

"What's in it for you...? Well Mr. Smith, if Im all helpless, and tied up, and gagged and stuff well... Well you see Mr. Smith... ''

Feeling the bindings tighten, I played into the little girl fantasy, making my voice high and innocent. I was letting my self go like I had with my slave fantasies, when he had first gotten me to strip and jerk off for him. My nasty imagination was getting me into trouble again, real trouble.

"You see Mister, well... I couldn't stop you. You could do anything you like. How could I stop you from doing naughty things with me, I'd be tied up and even gagged?"

The plastic noose pulled my wrists tighter and tighter together as I tugged the tab. I could still get loose, but i was nearly trapped.

My breathing grew heavy, and my legs shook. I still had time to pull my hands free, but I was being taken under by my own dirty fantasies. I was out of control with eagerness, and my words tumbled out, frightening me with their intensity. I was pouring out my darkest desires, and they scared me.

"What's in it for you Mister? I would be totally helpless. A girl could get taken advantage of in a situation like that... You could take dirty pictures up my skirt, show them to your friends, or even put my ass online for all the world to see. How could I stop you?"

The things I was saying were so demeaning and wrong, but I couldn't stop my self. I could feel premium oozing from my tip, and sticking my rigid dick to my panties. I was so turned on, I dug down for my most forbidden desires.

"I'd be helpless if you wanted to crotch rope me, or put clamps on my little tits. You could even tie my penis up. You could spank me and slap me around, and force me to do all kind of gross things... and if you were really mean you might invite you friends over to humiliate me, or even let them pay you to..."

I trailed off unable to go on.

Just as I finished speaking I pulled the tab tight with a final loud click. I realized suddenly that my hands were really pinned behind my back. I was bound for real. A sudden pang of regret hit me. What was I doing? I wanted to take the last few seconds back. I had to. It was a mistake. I only wanted the fantasy, not this...

Maybe it wasn't too late.

Desperately I tugged at my bonds. I turned a clumsy circle, jerking at my tied wrists. All I accomplished was to flash my panties as I almost toppled again. It was no use, I was tied good and tight.

Finally, the realization sank in, and it almost made me cum. I couldn't get free on my own, I could only be released. I was bound and dressed as a cute school girl, and I would remain that way till Mr. Smith decided I should be otherwise. Anything he felt like doing to me, it was out of my hands.

And I had just given him all those mean suggestions! What was I thinking?

When that zip tie made its last click, I stopped being a human boy and became an object. An object that belonged to Mr. Smith. What ever I was in for, I was in for it. I had made my choice.

I managed to stop struggling, and calm down a little. I slowed my breathing some, and faced Mr. Smith. Looking sheepishly into his camera phone, I though about how silly I must look in that video, and tried to smile. My skin flushed as I imagined what a slut this footage would make me look like.

And I had just encouraged him to show me off. Oh god, what if he really started posting bondage videos of me on the web. My thick penis twitched in my girly underwear, and my heart skipped a beat, imagining creepy old men masturbating to me.

Looking up I saw Mr. Smith peering to the empty grocery bag. Pulling out the scrap of paper with Kayana's number on it he looked at me and asked.

"What's this?"

In all the craziness, I had forgotten the big, horny, black lady from Target had given me her number. I found myself explaining quickly to Mr. Smith.

"When I went to Target today a fat, older, black, checkout lady guessed that the girly clothes and tie ups were for me. Her name is Kayana. She teased me, and put her number in the bag. She told me she had caught her son tangled in zip ties, with his pants down, and had helped him. The lady said if I needed any help with my zip ties I should just call."

Mr. Smith's looked at me with a grin of pure evil and asked.

"Wow a woman your mom's age, caught you, must have been really humiliating. You said she was a 'fat, older, black lady'. So this lady had big tits? A big wide butt?"

"Yes Mr. Smith huge saggy boobies, and a big ass. She had on yoga pants and must have been wearing a thong, because I couldn't see any panty lines. It was so embracing, like getting caught by my mom. I have to admit, even though she was chubby and old, I was really turned on. I think she even noticed... I got a little hard just from her catching and teasing me. To be honest I was hard like the entire bus ride home..."

Mr. Smith was enjoying my humiliation.

"I think Kayana might enjoy some nice photos then. Maybe she wants to see how those clothes look on you."

Taking my phone from my clothes on the floor, he used it to take a picture of me, tied and girly from the front. I hammed it up for the camera, wanting to look both slutty and pouty. I posed parting my lips slightly and opening my eyes wide and scared.

"Turn around, let's give her one from the back."

Facing my fanny to the camera, I spread my legs as wide as I could in my high heels, and arched my back. I wanted to really stick my butt out.

"Come on now, show us those panties little girl."

Reaching down and pinching the fabric with my bound hands, I was able to hike up my pleated skirt, and show off my new panties. It made me really excited that Mr. Smith wanted to show Kayana my cute butt.

On an impulse I grabbed the waist band of my bikini style panties, and weggied them up into my ass crack, like a thong. As I felt my cheeks pop out, I let out a low involuntary moan. This drew a whistle from Mr. Smith, and I looked over my shoulder and winked at the camera.

"Very cute, that's enough though. I'll send those now, with a little message, telling her your a bit tied up at the moment, but Im sure you would just love to show off your new clothes and restraints... And sent."

A shudder of naughty pleasure ran through me knowing that the photos were off. That nasty lady was gonna see me like this, and there was nothing I could do to stop it now. From our brief conversation I could tell she was a total creep, she had been all too excited to tell a strange boy about catching her son in self bondage. Who could guess what a person like Kayana might do with compromising photos of me.

Next I was turned around and Mr. Smith deftly bound my wrists with rope, snipping away the zip tie. After I was secured, he next bound my elbows together making me wimpier in pain.

I was getting a little nervous now, but before I could protest, Mr. Smith shoved my own dirty undies into my mouth. I choked, the taste of my sweaty crotch and premium making me gag. I wanted to spit them out but the clear tape, I had so thoughtfully bought earlier, was being wrapped around, and around my head.